


Imported Ficlet On The Evacuation Of Exodus Green

by Siffie



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny - Fandom, Destiny 2 - Fandom
Genre: Destiny, Destiny 2, Gen, Inspired by flavor text, The Collapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siffie/pseuds/Siffie
Summary: Be careful of what you find between the stars. Demons have breached the gate where once only angels dared.A squadron lead protects an evacuation ship during the Collapse, hoping they'll live to see another day.





	Imported Ficlet On The Evacuation Of Exodus Green

The curvature of the Earth is obscured by missile contrails and the ponderous bulk of capital ships. Behind them the Moon has an atmosphere for the first time in memory, a shroud of smoke and shrapnel from flash-incinerated lunar settlements. Strike craft flit back and forth across a background of stars and weapons fire. A steel grip has held the pilot’s heart for hours at this point, the ache in her chest echoing the aches in her arms and legs. A loop of prayer plays incessantly in her mind, an offering of thankfulness that she’s held it together, that she hasn’t lost any of her wingmen yet. A tone sounding in her earpiece jerks her from the brief reverie, a man’s voice coming through strong and rock-solid.

 _“Attention CERBERUS Lead._ _New orders from wing command. Acknowledge and receive. Over.”_

_“Copy. Send your traffic.”_

_“CERBERUS is to run escort_ _and interdiction for vessel EXODUS GREEN._ _Over.”_

 _“Wilco. Laying in escort pattern._ _CERBERUS out.”_

A beacon springs to life in the fighter’s heads-up display, mirrored within every cockpit of CERBERUS’ ships. The evacuation vessel has already made liftoff, a ten kilometer dive down into the outer reaches of the atmosphere awaiting its escorts. They’ll make sure it gets away in one piece. They don’t really have a choice after all. A rising feeling of misery and hysteria is quashed mercilessly. She knows that won’t help anyone left alive, least of all herself. The squadron turns like a single machine and begins its descent, the Earth in all its glory dominating the view. EXODUS GREEN is still distant enough that it’s entirely obscured by its objective marker, a tiny green blip with a hundred thousand lives behind it.

The distance ticks down between them, the enormous speeds present reducing kilometers to only a few seconds of travel. The order is given to fall into place in the escort formation, the fighters maneuvering themselves to face the carnage in orbit before air resistance gets to the point where such a flip would be too dangerous. Her breath is steady inside her helmet, crash webbing keeping her steady despite the sudden change in direction. Afterburners are triggered, inertial dampeners ignite, and speed is regained in just enough time that EXODUS GREEN exits Earth’s atmosphere with its escort present and intact.

The priorities of the enemy are immediately apparent, a lance of energy carving through space towards them, missing by only meters. The offending vessel quickly finds itself battered by heavy fire from a descending ship with the markings of the Russian Federation, the enormous machine venting atmosphere and smoke even as it uses itself to create an earnest barrier. In the distance, a swarm of jagged black shapes arcs towards them, purple pinpricks lighting up as bolts of energy come careening past the formation. Their attackers don’t have to worry about ammunition, after all.

A signal comes through as the hostile strike craft draw closer, the softly pulsing symbols in the pilot’s display indicating that two of her wingmen wish to break off and engage. She flexes her jaw, opening a comm channel with her chin, eyes forward.

_“Permission granted. Break off and engage.”_

The two ships on either end of the escort formation peel off, moving to a safe distance before accelerating towards their chosen opponents. Empty space is painted with carbon exhaust as missiles are launched, forcing the enemy to break off their attack or risk destruction. One stays the course, though whatever hope the alien had of gaining glory is shattered when a cloud of shrapnel rips through its craft, sending it tumbling and crippled past the evacuees. An extra few moments are bought, every second bringing EXODUS GREEN closer to the point it can safely engage its NLS drive. Three fighters remain in a safeguard.

The peace doesn’t last long. The pilot can see her wingmen dueling the enemy on her radar, outnumbered almost three to one. They know they’re going to die, and they don’t mind. Nothing to go back to, after all. Her attention is torn away as her display marks a patch of sky with no stars, a rotating red triangle signaling the alien gunship that’s on an intercept course. Fifteen seconds until EXODUS GREEN can engage its drives. The hostile gunship’s engines make a low, rapid thrumming that goes silent in the void.

She signals her two remaining wingmen, all three craft accelerating past EXODUS GREEN. Her thumb presses downward, her fighter’s twin cannons opening up on this final obstacle, smart rounds seeking any chink in its obsidian armor. It fires back, emerald green spears of light stitching across the exterior of her fighter. Behind her, the soft glow of NLS engulfs EXODUS GREEN, the evacuees slipping away into deep space.

Something vital is struck, and the pilot’s craft ignites. She knows there is no one out there that could possibly pick her up if she ejects; a moment passes and the flaming hulk of her vessel slams into its killer, clearing the way for whomever might follow.


End file.
